It was her turn to pick where we ate, but after 45 minutes of passing restaurant after restaurant, I finally looked over and asked her, “Really, where do you want to go?” She looked at me through teary eyes and said, “I don’t know!”

—Bill

Aftermath: We ate salty food at T.G.I. Friday’s. She paid. We broke up the next day.

I found out he let his dog sleep with him…under the covers.

—Becky

Aftermath: We dated another 3 months, until about April. I guess the dog was actually sort of cozy over the winter.

He cried when the Denver Broncos lost. He didn’t live in Denver, hadn’t gone to college there and had no money riding on the game. He never even played football.

—Nicole

Aftermath: It lasted about three months after that. I realized that I played more football than he did.

I went to a New Year’s Eve party and thought, “You are ugly and I’m not attracted to you.” I was only dating her to get in her friend’s pants.

—Brian

Aftermath: I broke it off New Year’s Day. God, I’m such an a**hole.

She spent our date telling me how she’d had an affair with our waitress, which was fine. That happens when you date a stripper—it’s half the reason you date a stripper. But, when she took me home, she drove demon-fast, erratically and sang over an ear-splitting stereo. She then flashed the cars next to us while swerving into their lane.

—Rob

Aftermath: I never called her again, though she did show up at my house on her break, wearing a waist-length blond wig. I turned her down gently, not telling her that she was two degrees too crazy for me.